


Slain and Murdered

by asthiathien



Category: 15th Century CE RPF
Genre: Battle of Bosworth Field, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Everybody Dies, Gen, executions, gratuitous Latin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asthiathien/pseuds/asthiathien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"On this day. . . it was shown. . . that King Richard, late mercifully reigning upon us, was through great treason. . . piteously slain and murdered, to the great heaviness of this city."</em> --Records of the City of York, 22 August, 1485.<br/>Richard's death wasn't a sudden, unexpected killing in the heat of battle. It was an engineered execution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slain and Murdered

"Release me immediately, you cowardly, treasonous scum!" John Howard, Duke of Norfolk, snarled furiously as he struggled against the bonds around his wrists, twisting his hands behind his back. "Give me a sword and we'll see how much you laugh!" he spat at William Stanley as the damned traitor laughed aloud.

"Oh, poor little Norfolk," Stanley sneered as Howard was shoved past. "Your time's up now, isn't it, _my lord_?"

Howard growled in rage as the men herded him to the side, Stanley's laughter ringing in his ears as he was shoved down onto his knees. As he tried fruitlessly to struggle free of his captors, he took a little relief in the knowledge that he had not seen Richard since before the battle began.

_Perhaps Lovell managed to get him out before the battle went sour,_ he thought with a desperate hope. _Perhaps he yet lives._

But the next moment that hope was utterly shattered as the crowd drew back to surround a small huddle of men: Lord Stanley, the Earl of Northumberland, the Earl of Oxford, and Henry Tudor.

And -

"Richard!" Howard screamed as his king, helmet lost and face liberally spattered with mud and blood, was shoved to his knees before the Tudor pretender. Richard barely caught himself before he struck the hard earth, his bound hands supporting him as his head hung low in exhaustion.

"Forfeit your crown, Richard, and we will spare your life," Tudor said in a voice of ice, and a ripple of angry exclamations swept through the captured royal forces, several attempting to stand and fight despite the French and Welsh mercenaries all around them.

But all this activity was cut short as Richard spoke above it, his voice weak and wavering with pain but utterly unyielding.

"I will _never_ voluntarily relinquish the throne of England to one undeserving of it," Richard said as he lifted his head, wearied and half-dead of bloodloss but still a thousand times more regal than the man at whose feet he had been forced to kneel. "Kill me, if you desire a crown so desperately. I will die rightfully King of England, and the most you will ever have is the broken shadows of the throne. The throne of England will die with me."

"Kill him!" Tudor ordered, and one of the Welshmen stepped forward, the loyal servants of the crown crying out in dismay and Howard already forcing himself to stand and twist free of the bonds -

" _Fidelis usque ad mortem, ad Angliae coronam_ ," Richard whispered, eyes fluttering closed. " _Et sedi super thronum Angliae nunquam istos._ "

Howard tore a sword from the hand of one of his captors, lunging across the clearing towards Richard, two other knights, both marked with the badges of Richard's household, leaping forward with him as fighting broke out all around them -

And Richard's eyes suddenly snapped open as he said in a cry that was more of a hoarse scream, " _Coronam Angliae in dies me._ "

And then the halberd fell.

Howard screamed out his king's name as he fell to his knees by Richard's side where he lay still, blood steadily pooling beneath his dark head, eyes closed in death.

"You've murdered him," Howard breathed in horrified shock, and then he screamed in furious rage, "You've _murdered him_!"

"I," Tudor said coldly, "killed a traitor to the realm. I killed a threat to the innocent people of England." His gaze was contemptuous as he glared at the defiant loyalists. "And now it seems I must kill his accomplices." He gestured at the mercenaries to come up behind them, but one of the knights silenced him.

"Didn't you hear what he said?" the man said quietly, where he gently cradled Richard's head. He looked up, and triumph glittered in his eyes. "The crown died with King Richard. England," and he looked up towards the darkening sky, "will never forgive the spilling of her royal blood. The throne you sit upon will never be anything but stolen with the lives of the Crown's loyal servants." He shook his head slowly. "She will never forget this day."

"Mark our words, Henry Tudor," Howard said as he cast his stolen sword aside. "No matter how you attempt to justify your rule, England will never forget this day. England will never forget the last Plantagenet King and his murder at the hands of a Tudor pretender and his mercenary allies. _She will not forget._ "

"Kill them!" Tudor roared, and as the blades swung down the men of England said in one united cry:

" _Vivat Rex Ricardus III!_ "

* * *

_Fidelis usque ad mortem, ad Angliae coronam: I die loyal to the crown of England_

_Et sedi super thronum Angliae nunquam istos: And these traitors will never sit upon the throne of England_

_Coronam Angliae in dies me: The crown of England dies with me_

_Vivat Rex Ricardus III: God save King Richard III_


End file.
